In Ron Weasley's Arms
by Red Bess Rackham
Summary: That didn't mean it had ever stopped hurting. That I never stopped wishing it were me in Ron Weasley's arms. Written for the Halloween Fic Exchange, for A. Lynn the Poet. R/Hr, HBP.


**A/n: **This story was written for the Halloween Fic Exchange. I got **A. Lynn the Poet**, who requested _a R/Hr one-shot, angst, something from Ron or Hermione's p.o.v. during HBP. _So Lynn, this dedicated to you. Hope you like it! And those divider lines STILL aren't working here, so... (grumble grumble) thus the x's.

**Disclaimer: **Nope. Not a thing do I own.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It hurt. It really hurt.

At first, it had been an unpleasant stinging and a tight, uncomfortable feeling in my chest. It grew sharper when I saw the _other_ girl and even more acute when I saw _him_. In the beginning, it was practically unbearable to be in the same building as the pair, let alone in the same _room_. Especially if they were playing tonsil hockey – which they seem to do a lot.

Then, after a while, I grew to ignore it. I ignored it enough that the pain and the tightness turned into a cold, numb block just above my stomach. I'd gotten used to it, and it no longer felt like my heart was ripping to shreds every time I was forced to witness them so near each other.

That didn't mean it had ever stopped hurting. That I never stopped wishing it were me in Ron Weasley's arms.

If one has a persistent and awful backache, it will be foremost in your mind for a while, particularly when it flares up. Eventually, though, life takes over and you learn to live with the pain. I suppose that's a little like what I'm doing.

Living with the pain.

I pretend I'm almost glad – or at least indifferent – that he went and found someone else who apparently makes him happy. But if I'm being truly honest, I cry before bed most nights, though only when I'm completely sure the others are asleep – above all, _her._

The worst day, the day I lost it, really was the day it happened for the first time. The day I walked into the Common Room to enjoy the after-Quidditch celebrations and saw him, and her, rather closely intertwined and apparently having a grand old time.

In the split second it took for me to take in such a sight, I felt hot all over like I'd just jumped into the middle of a raging bonfire, followed instantly by freezing cold as if I'd been thrown into the Arctic Ocean. In the split seconds to follow, the hot and cold alternated, accompanied by the feeling of my heart shattering like the most fragile glass under a baseball player's swing. My chest was so tight I felt as though no breath could enter or exit without serious harm. My throat closed up and my vision was suddenly blurred by steaming tears.

And that was one second of my life. The second of my life which seemed to last hours.

I managed to swallow and mobility returned to my body in the next second in time. My limbs were able to finally follow the instructions my frazzled and racing brain was shouting: _Run. Get away. Anywhere. Shut your eyes and run._

I turned and rushed out the portrait hole, pushing past Harry, who I guessed would follow as soon as he laid eyes on the extremely public display Ron was putting on with Lavender. I made for the first classroom I saw and collapsed into the desk on the far side of the room from the door. My hands were shaking fiercely and my legs were mushier than half-made Jello. My breath came in fast, shuddering gasps.

Oh _gosh_, it hurt.

I shook my head to try and cease the rapid pounding as I yanked my wand from the folds of my robes. _Distraction._ I thought. _Do something. Anything. Make it go away._ I quickly said the first spell that popped into my mind, producing several cheery little canaries. Though I felt more like conjuring an earthquake, tornado or any other natural disaster, this was the only spell I could currently come up with.

"Hermione?"

Harry tentatively entered the room, looking very worried.

"Oh, hello, Harry," I forced myself to say, pretending like I just happened to be there as he was passing by, though I believe we both knew that was far from the truth. "I was just practicing."

"Yeah… they're – er – really good…" said Harry uneasily. There was a short silence before I was able to speak again.

"Ron seems to be enjoying the celebration." I tried to sound offhand and calm, but it came out rather squeaky instead. And I wasn't going to mention it, really I wasn't. But it was one of those moments when your mouth just shoots off something and you have no power to stop it.

"Er… does he?"

"Don't pretend you didn't see him." I snapped. "He wasn't exactly hiding it, was – "

I broke off when the door flung open and of course, of all the people I wouldn't like to see at that moment, of all the people in the castle, in the country, in the _world_, the one who walks in that door at that moment, has to be Ron Weasley and his new body appendage. And of all the things he could have done at that moment – number one on my mind being him rushing over to me and saying it was all a big misunderstanding and he thought she was me when he kissed her – he was _laughing_. With _her_.

"Oh." He said and stopped short.

Oh? He says 'Oh'?

"Oops!" Lavender quickly retreated, letting the door shut loudly behind her, grinning and snickering the whole time.

That alternating furnace hot and frozen cold shocked over me again and again. I stared hard at Ron, millions of thoughts crashing around in my head, yet only a few discernable. _Why her? Why not me? How can you be with her when I love you?_

The silence grew and Ron was looking anywhere except at me. The coward. Finally he said in an uneasy, forced sort of voice,

"Hi, Harry! Wondered where you'd got to!"

He didn't even acknowledge me. At all. Alright, so I likely would have launched into a hurt, fiery tirade of words if he had tried to say anything nonchalant to me, but that didn't stop it from hurting. Another painful stab into the shards of my once whole heart. I slowly got off the desk as my conjured canaries chirped cheerfully. I would have swatted them just for sounding so happy at that moment if only my fury and hurt hadn't been so concentrated on Ron.

"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," I said in a low, neutral voice. "She'll wonder where you've gone."

I managed to force my feet forward, though all I felt like doing was dropping to my knees and crying my soul out. I was just about at the doorway when I saw Ron's shoulders sag in relief out of the corner of my eye. Although I was going to just leave and cry somewhere else, alone, his apparent relaxation with the situation caused anger to explode through me like scorching fireworks.

"_Oppugno_!" I cried, my wand pointed directly at Ron.

My eyes welled up to the brim with tears so my canaries looked like yellow blobs and streaks as they began pecking madly at Ron. He tried to wave them off, but they wouldn't stop.

"Gerremoffme!" he shouted.

My tears spilled over as I turned and left the room as fast as I could, slamming the door furiously behind me. I think I saw Lavender in the hall, but I'm not quite sure. My vision was blurred rather badly as I got myself very far away from Gryffindor Tower very quickly.

So now I pretend to be indifferent when the subject arises. That being said, I avoid any interaction with Ron whenever possible. I don't look at him, I don't speak to him, and even if he were to talk to me first – which he doesn't – I doubt whether I would answer. Harry patiently continues to be friends with both of us, though I can tell he's not sure how to handle the situation and likes it even less.

Maybe someday, if I'm really lucky, Ron will grow two eyes and a brain and realize how much I care for him and how much Lavender doesn't. She just wants a boyfriend and a snogging partner. I don't think she's particularly choosy.

In the meantime, I go on hating him, hating Lavender for having him, loving him with everything I have, walking around with a cold, numb block just above my stomach, _hating_ Lavender, and wishing that it'll someday be me, Hermione Granger, wrapped in Ron Weasley's arms.

**END**

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

**A/n:** Well? How'd you like it? Let me know, 'cuz if you know me, you know I adore every and any review I can get. If you don't know me, then I'll tell you, I adore every review I get. And of course, the longer, the better. :D


End file.
